


Gradually

by Beauty4estGreen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fitz and Skye Friendship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied Mind Rape, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jazz Music, Sweet Gestures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2583221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beauty4estGreen/pseuds/Beauty4estGreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 1: Skye has survived getting shot, and everyone shows their subtle support in their own ways. Post 1x13 "TRACKS". Chapter 2: Skye helps Ward with some much needed catharsis after Lorelei violates him. Post 1x15 "Yes Men"</p><p>A couple of one-shots I wrote during season one, pre-Evil Ward. They've been on FanFiction.net for a while.<br/>Spoilers for 1X13 and 1X15 for anyone who's WAY behind in this show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Cope, To Hope, To Wait

When Skye was administered the cure, her condition quickly stabilized. Albeit her blood pressure was low, her vitals functioned normally, her breathing was steady, and a bit of color returned to her skin. This satisfied Dr. Simmons, which put the team a little more at ease. However, Skye did not wake up.

After that she was rarely left alone. Simmons would frequently be monitoring her unchanging condition, taking the same meticulous notes daily and triple-checking the equipment, much to the doctors’ annoyance. She was adamant on keeping an eye on her injured friend, however, and they had no choice but to respect her Level 5 superiority. She eventually concluded that Skye was still unconscious due to mild brain damage from her time in the chamber, but was healing.

Agent Ward spent exactly an hour sitting next to Skye’s bed each day after his workouts, when he was sore to his bones and had sweated out half the electrolytes in his body. He always arrived between two and four o’clock in the afternoon, depending on how long it took him to get tired. Occasionally he sat and read for a while. He always put the book down, though, before long. Very often he was there at the same time that Simmons was. Even though she tended to talk out her nerves, Ward never spoke. His eyes never left Skye’s face. And he always laid his hand over her wrist, gently rubbing the back of her hand, near the end of his visits.

Coulson sometimes spent hours standing outside Skye’s room. He watched her through the window with his unending gaze. This was usually when he couldn’t sleep at night, and paid her an impromptu visit. The SHIELD personnel hesitated to let him inside the facility the first time, but let him in after a glance at his badge. A few times, he went inside during the day, leaned against the wall or sat on the edge of her bed, and talked to her. He told her stories she might have liked to hear. Skye always did like to talk. He figured that the social stimulus may help her out of the coma. It was strange to be in a room with Skye and have the room be silent; which is why Coulson usually avoided going inside, preferring to stand outside and watch her.

Fitz spent most of his time working in the lab to keep himself busy, and persistently dragged Jemma with him to keep her busy as well. They both needed the distraction of their work. He, however, knew better than anyone of Skye’s pleasure in company. So he visited when no one else was with her. Either when Ward was still hitting his punching bag or reading, and Coulson was elsewhere, he’d set Jemma to work on a project that he knew would keep her engaged and occupied and as content as possible, and pay a visit to Skye. Of all her visitors, he was the most positive and the most talkative. He would bring gadget components of his unfinished projects and explain to her their purposes, and the problems he was having getting them right. On late-evening visits her brought books and read aloud to her, like a brother reading a bedtime story to his ill kid sister. One morning he brought speakers and an iPod full of Skye’s favorite jazz music.

A vase of fresh gerbera daisies was always on her bedside table. Agent May had put them there. When they began to wilt she turned up and replaced them. The first bouquet was composed of orange and red flowers. The second were yellow and pink. May walked into Skye’s room every evening at five-thirty on the dot, and made sure the vase was full of water and the flowers weren’t brown. It had been twelve days since Skye received her cure and stabilized, and Jemma was checking on her status. Agent May unceremoniously walked through the door with a bouquet in her hands. The stems had been trimmed diagonally and were all similar lengths. She walked to the bedside table and pulled the wilting daisies out of their vase and replaced them with the green and white ones she had. She stood for a moment and asked when Skye would wake up. When Simmons replied that it should be any day, May straightened a corner of the blankets and walked out of the ward again.

Three days later the daisies were still vibrant and fresh. Ward was taking his unofficial late afternoon shift with _All Quiet on the Western Front_ in his lap. Fitz’s iPod dock was playing quietly in the background. So settled was he in this tense routine that he almost didn’t notice a very faint rustling noise. He glanced up; no one was at the door, and Skye was still. He went back to reading, and then heard it again, this time certain he’d seen Skye’s fingers twitch. He set the book aside and scooted closer to the bed. Her head moved an inch, readjusting its position on her pillow. At this point Ward grabbed her hand with both of his own. Her fingers curled around his.

“Skye? Skye, can you hear me?” He gently rubbed her wrist as he watched her face. After several tense moments, Skye breathed one long, deep breath, and fluttered open her eyes.

“Simmons!” he shouted urgently. “Simmons, get over here!” Skye blinked at him and opened her mouth as if trying to speak, but gave up.

Simmons rushed into the hospital room in a panic. “What? What’s happened? Has something gone wrong? Is she alri – ” She stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh my god,” she breathed. “You’re awake.” Skye gave her a look that was almost a smile. Jemma walked quickly towards the equipment, grabbing Skye’s medical clipboard as she went. “I need to check your vitals. Are you feeling okay? Does it hurt anywhere?”

Skye tried to speak again, but grimaced instead. Ward told her, “Don’t strain yourself. You’ve been out for almost two weeks.” She nodded her head once, as though saying _yes, sir._

“And for God’s sakes Ward, do _not_ scare me like that.” Simmons pointed at him with her pen. “I thought she’d gone into cardiac arrest or something.”

“Bastard shot me.” Ward and Jemma both looked at Skye. Her voice was thin and raspy. “Where’s Quinn? Hang on – is that Frank Sinatra?”

Jemma smiled. “That was Fitz’s idea.” Skye smiled back.

Ward carefully let go of Skye’s hand and stood. “I’m going to tell the others you’re awake.”

Simmons said, “Tell them one at a time, alright? I don’t want more than two people in here at a time, including myself.”

He nodded. As he walked away, he heard Skye ask hoarsely who’d left the gerbera daisies and how they knew she liked them.


	2. Dark Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my original preamble for this chapter when it was published on FanFiction.net:
> 
> "Okay, so while “Yes Men” was a great episode, there was one gaping mistake by the writers, which I know was noticed by a lot of people and not only me. For all intents and purposes, Ward was raped. And did anyone think to ask if he was okay? No. He got punched in the face and he APOLOGIZED.  
> So in this chapter I’m channeling my anger at the callousness of the SHIELD writers and made this little conversation between Ward and Skye. This is partly because I like Skyeward, but mostly because I think she would be the most understanding about it all."

Grant Ward shot upright in bed, panting and covered in sweat. The bunk was completely dark. He tried to swallow the thick, fuzzy sleep from his throat, to no avail. The sheets clung to his skin where they were tangled around his legs.

After catching his breath, Ward lay back down and closed his eyes. But as soon as he did, instead of his stuffy bunk, he was back in that dimmed Vegas hotel room. Her hot breath on his neck, her sweat rubbing onto his chest as their skin pressed together, her hands tugging his hair…

He opened his eyes again and threw off the covers, getting out of bed. His alarm clock read 4:45 in the morning. Early enough to be awake, he thought. He picked up something to read from his nightstand and quietly opened the door to his bunk.

The cool, circulating air of the open common area was a relief. It made him feel more awake. He went to the kitchen and dug out a pitcher of iced tea, pouring himself a glass. Coffee would have been a better choice to keep him awake, but the last thing he wanted was something hot. A glass of ice-cold scotch was tempting, but he wasn’t dumb enough to drink in the morning.

Ward turned on a lamp as far from the bunks as possible. He sat down with his book and began reading.

He wasn’t keeping track of time, but it must’ve been five or ten minutes later when he heard another bunk door slide open and someone shuffle towards the common area. He looked up to see a bleary-eyed Skye in her pajamas and a fleece sweater zipped almost to her neck. Her hair was coming loose from its braid.

“Ward?” she said huskily. “What’re you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”  


Skye rubbed her eyes and got a bottle of water from the fridge. “I heard someone moving around out here. And I’m thirsty.” She carefully sat down a couple feet from Ward, wincing as she did so. She put a hand on her stomach. “Damn.”  


Ward furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”  


“Are you?” she asked. “It’s freezing in here and you’re sweating. Please don’t tell me you’re working out in the middle of the night.”  


“You’re cold because your body’s healing. And no,” he added. “I wasn’t working out.” He pulled his sticky t-shirt away from his chest and fanned himself, but it did little to alleviate the heat still prickling across his skin. He tried to keep reading, figuring Skye would want to go back to sleep. He glanced up when he didn’t hear her move; she was studying him carefully.  


“Nightmare?” she asked. The grogginess was disappearing from her voice. Ward found himself unable to break eye contact; he noticed her eyes were really dark brown in this light. But her question caused him to think unwillingly of his time under Lorelei’s spell. Her voice ringing through his mind, her lips against his own…  


He took a shuddering breath. Blood pounded in his ears.  


Skye could tell something was wrong, but she wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t been given all the details, but it had only been a week since Ward was under Lorelei’s spell. Even though he was strong, anyone would have bad dreams for a while after going through that. He delayed breaking eye contact with her and didn’t respond to her question. But then, Ward never did much unnecessary talking.  


Without thinking, Skye reached for his arm but stopped when his muscles involuntarily clenched. She glanced at his face, and back at his tense hand, inches from her own outstretched fingers. “Oh god,” she realized. He purposefully relaxed his fist, and she withdrew her hand.  


After a pause, she asked cautiously, “Ward, when Lorelei had you under her spell, did she… make you sleep with her?”  


Ward felt frustration rise in his chest, but he swallowed it down. He almost didn’t reply. “Yes. But she didn’t make me do it; I wanted it.”  


“Then I suppose you also wanted to throw May through a pane of glass? And lock me and Simmons in the medical pod?” He was silent, so she continued, “She invaded your head and made you do all sorts of stuff you wouldn’t have otherwise. Forcing someone into sex with mind control – that’s just sick.”  


“It wasn’t rape, Skye.” Ward leaned forward, looking her in the eye. He was careful not to stay calm and keep his voice quiet – the last thing either of them needed was an argument. 

“And it wasn’t mind control. I’m not diminishing her actions. But what she did…was influence my motivation. My decisions were still my own.”  


Skye sat back, thinking. “Okay. Maybe that’s how to felt at the time. But what about now?” She scooted closer to him and reached out again. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just trust me okay?”  


He nodded. She slowly pressed her hand against his chest, starting with her fingertips and then to her palm. He took a deep breath. His heartbeat was strong, hot, and fast. Too fast.  


She looked him in the eyes. “You can tell me. Or not. But I really don’t think you’re fine.”  


He stared at her hand, an intensity written in his features that she’s glimpsed only a couple times before. He removed her hand from his heart. Her palm rested on his knee, with his fingers covering hers gently. His eyes were focused downward.  


“I’m not,” he admitted. “I feel guilty. I betrayed my team and slept with the enemy. And I wanted to. I – I liked it.”  


Her eyes continued to probe him. He felt her fingers gently rub his wrist.  


“I liked it. And now, it disgusts me.” Ward felt like his insides were twisting.  


Skye gripped his hand properly. “I get it. It’s because she used you and violated your right to your own body. It’s…confusing…because she used manipulation instead of force.”  


Ward was very aware of Skye’s hand against his skin. His insides were still twisting. “You get it?” he asked thickly.  


“I grew up with orphans and foster kids. I’ve seen a lot of scars that I can never, ever un-see.” Skye let go of his hand to take a drink of water. “I can’t make you feel better. But you shouldn’t feel responsible for what happened, because you’re a man or a badass or whatever reason. Be disgusted with her.”  


Ward had no words to reply to that. He nodded to show that he understood. The room seemed a little cooler than it had several minutes ago.  


Skye gave a huge yawn.  


“Go back to bed, Skye.”  


“Right.” She got up. “Can’t evade sleep forever.”  


Ward didn’t go back to bed that night. And for the next many nights, he slept little and uneasily. But when he awoke from nightmares, he was no longer ashamed, but frightened. And gradually, night after night, the fear dwindled until it was gone too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in a fit of rage right after watching 1x15. It sucked that the writers made Ward have sex under the influence and he later apologized for it. Granted, he's probably been through worse, and it was before any of us knew he was a double agent (not that being a member of HYDRA is any excuse for raping a character and not acknowledging it). I based this with my understanding of Good Ward's character and how I thought he would process a violation such as Lorelei's.
> 
> My original ending note:
> 
> "Look guys, the majority of sexual assault victims are probably women and girls. However, it’s male victims who really get the shortest end of the stick here. Societal expectations make assaulted boys feel ashamed and emasculated and responsible, and men are assumed to be willing to do anything to get some. The fact is they’re just as easily scarred from nonconsensual sexual experiences as women.  
> While I get the reasoning that Ward wouldn’t have been traumatized because he thought he desired it, the manipulation would at the least leave him with confused feelings and anxiety. What you read here is my take on how, if the writers weren’t being stupid, those emotions would have manifested themselves in Ward."


End file.
